Finishing the Trials
by uniquelytypical
Summary: Predictions for Season 10. Sam cures Dean as he finishes the last trial and closes the gates of Hell once and for all. deathfic! Demon!Dean hurt/limp!Sam


Hey guys! This has been playing in my head ever since I saw this post on Tumblr

post/88308879342/season-10-predictions-part-one-part-two-you

Had to get it written down! Hope you guys like it and as always, please read and review! :)

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This had been going on for hours now, and it was really starting to take its' toll on Sam.

"Sam. Stop. Please." Dean begged from behind him. Stuck in the middle of a devil's trap, Dean sat, tied up in a chair with the demon handcuffs. A layer of sweat glistened off his skin in the dim light in the bunker, black eyes dimming with each dose of Sam's blood. He was exhausted and in pain. He hated knowing just what exactly was happening to him. And slowly but surely, he knew what was happening to his baby brother too.

He was dying. Slowly. Just like before.

Sam's features were tired looking; dark circles loomed underneath bloodshot red eyes, wet hair sticking to his forehead as sweat poured off of him, his breathing had become ragged and shallow after giving Dean each dose.

Dean had started off strong, not giving Sam any hint that he wanted to be cured. And he still didn't. Not like this. Not at this cost.

The trials weren't over. Not yet anyways. And with each step closer to curing Dean, Sam was that much closer to finishing the trials and that much closer to digging his own grave. And at first, Dean hadn't cared. So much as blinked in Sam's direction when he told him what he was about to begin. He had laughed at his foolishness for even believing that things would, could, go back to the way they were before any of this happened.

He wanted to stay a demon. It gave him power. He felt like for once in his life, he was in control of everything. There were no angels trying to get him to say yes to Michael. His father wasn't breathing down his neck, giving him orders. Instead, his baby brother, who he had once sworn to protect, was giving up everything just to make him into the human he once was. As he started to slowly feel human emotions again, he knew he had to stop his brother from finishing this. He didn't want to lose Sam. He couldn't lose Sam. Not again.

Sam began slowly filling the last vial with his blood, barely on his feet. He swayed slightly when he turned to face Dean, syringe in hand.

"It's gonna be okay, Dean. I'm gonna fix all of this." With tears in his eyes, Sam looked into his brothers green irises before peering down at the vial, a light smile played on his face.

Holding back tears, Dean knew there was nothing that he could say to his brother that would stop him from this. He was too stubborn to stop now. Always had been stubborn. Winchesters were like that.

"Sammy." Dean looked up at his baby brother as he staggered toward him. He could see that Sam's arms were red and shaking, power surging through him as he reared the end of the last trial. "Please don't do this. We can find another way. I promise. Just, please." He was basically sobbing now. He was about to be the sole reason for his little brother's death.

"I'm sorry, Dean. But I have to do this."

Dean felt the light prick of the needle enter his neck for the last time. A wave of warmth flooded through his veins at the final dosage. Quickly trying to free his now human hands from the handcuffs, he watched his brother sway on his feet.

As Sam depressed the plunger, his arms were barely able to hold the weight of the needle he was so weak. Staggering back, Sam fell to his knees, his breathing rough and uneven. He soon collapsed onto his back as he clawed at his arms, trying to release the burning energy trapped within them.

Finally able to break free of the cuffs, Dean skidded his way across the floor to the crumpled heap in the corner of the room. Sitting down and pulling his brother up so that Sam's back lay against his chest, Dean cradled Sam's head against his as it tried to weakly lull to the side. Sam's breaths were coming out in small, uneven puffs of air and heat radiated off of the youngest Winchester like a sauna.

"Sammy. Hey. Come on man, look at me." Dean pleaded.

With heavy lids, Sam gazed up with glassy eyes at his big brother holding him. Upon seeing the bright green orbs staring back at him worriedly, a light smile stretched across Sam's face.

His brother was back. And that was all he needed to see.

Dean felt his brother go limp and weightless in his arms. He felt the last shuddering breath that left his baby brother's lungs. He saw those usually expressive eyes close for the final time.

He knew he was gone.

"Sammy?" With tears flooding his eyes, Dean buried his face in his brother's unruly hair.

A bright red light forced itself out of Sam and danced around the room, covering every inch of the small area. The light burned brighter and brighter, but Dean took little notice. He continued to stroke Sam's hair and whisper reassurances in his unhearing ears until the light finally burnt out.

Sam had done it; he had closed the gates of hell. And Dean didn't even care. For he had lost the most precious thing he had ever had.

He was now the final Winchester on Earth and he never felt so alone.

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Hope that wasn't too terrible!

Please R&R!


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